Die For You
by Roxtrox7
Summary: Paradise is only perfect as long as those under its illusion are content, when arms are raised against the order paradise disappears and is replaced by utter chaos. Character Death


Die For You

A Shaman King one-shot by Roxtrox7

I own nothing but my original plot and characters.

Paradise is only perfect as long as those under its illusion are content, when arms are raised against the order paradise disappears and is replaced by utter chaos.

I had been asleep in my small cot next to my father's in our rather spacious tent. The night had been quiet and clear, as the stars shown down brightly on the Earth. We had had a long day of travel as we made our way to a meeting my father had to get to. A few shamans had become restless under my father's rule. Their open protests and secret meetings had become a problem hence the voyage. We were no more than a two-day hike to our location.

That night the calm air was shattered by the screams and shouts of numerous attackers. I awoke screaming as several shamans charged into our tent. My father sprung to his feet, immediately getting in front of me and summoning the Spirit of Fire.

His guardian ghost's tremendous form seemed to frighten the attackers as they faltered in aw of his presence. The Spirit of Fire was imposing at eight stories high, he was nothing to scoff at. His body glowed white as an immeasurable heat radiated off of him. As the rogue shaman froze with fear the Spirit of Fire swept his huge hands knocking them away. Their clothes caught on fire and the place where they had been touched had severe burns. Screams of agony erupted as the attackers fell over in to much pain to move, some never to rise again. Those who managed to avoid the attack lunged forward slashing the air with their various weapons. I

I hid behind my father's leg, my small hands clasping the hem of his poncho in fear. My father was the strongest shaman in the world; every attempt on his life had been quenched swiftly and without mercy. Even as these thoughts ran through my head my heart beat faster and my eyes grew wide at the carnage.

The Spirit of Fire continued picking off shaman while my father began to kill our attackers as well. He expertly coordinated his furiyoku into columns of flame that encircled the closer traitors. The smell of burnt flesh choked the air as cries of death echoed into the night. The onslaught seemed never ending as the as the stars wept at the terrible scene before them.

I felt much younger than a child of eight as fear swelled up inside of me. My father had ever so slightly been leaning closer to me, making sure I was still there as my body heat warmed his backside. I had not noticed, as my attention was groggy with fear and fatigue. My father and his spirit were too preoccupied to notice one particular shaman sneaking up behind us. With one swift movement I had been torn away from my father and the cold steal of a blade was at my throat. My small fingers pried at the arm holding me off the ground.

My father had spun around violently and sent the most hateful glare towards my captor. The pure malice and hatred in his soft brown eyes terrified me. The man holding me shouted some command at my father though I could not be sure what was said as my mind absorbed with my father's eyes. From the knife pushing harder on my flesh I determined that my father's answer had not been satisfactory. For the second time that night my lips parted and a terrible shriek filled the air. The hatred increased in my father's expression if that was even possible.

I could feel a deep chortle vibrate in my captor's chest. My own brown eyes stared pleadingly at my father. I could tell he was in no position to save me. At that realization I determined to save myself. If I could get away my father would be able to kill them all and we would be safe. I focused my furyoku just as I had been taught and channeled it through out my body. My body temperature spiked dramatically. The blade on my neck began to melt and moments later the man holding me screamed out in pain as my super hot body seared his flesh, dropping me in surprise.

I quickly ran to my father's side and stood next to him with an angry look on my small angular face. My father smirked at my escape and obvious superiority to the shaman traitor. I stared at him as well, prepared to see him die as so many others had on that terrible night. My father's body heated up quickly to a temperature much higher than my own. I raised my right hand in unison with my father and together we melted the flesh from his bones. My body was pumping more adrenaline then I could handle as I watched what remained of his bones smolder in a pile.

When it seemed that the worst was over another surprised attack was launched. My senses were sharper and I turned, prepared to kill my attacker. However what I saw caused me to freeze. A petit, middle-aged, blonde woman was bringing a sword fused with her guardian ghost down on me. I am not sure what it was about her that caused me to loose my focus. She was short and thin, dressed in a full black ensemble except for the orange headphones that hung around her neck. Something about her eyes seemed familiar; it was the look of pure hatred she gave me. Her black eyes held the same emotion that my father's had held only moments earlier.

As the spirit blade was about to slice me in half a cloaked figure jumped in front of me. The sword plunged clear through only stopping millimeters from me nose. The woman was taken into the grasp of the Spirit of Fire who proceeded to slowly squeeze the life out of her as she roasted in his burning fingers.

It took me only half a moment to realize what had happened. My father had jumped in front of me, protecting me from the enraged blonde. He collapsed after a few more seconds. I shouted for the Spirit of Fire who quickly upon seeing his master's fall encased us in flame causing us to vanish in an instant.

Before I could blink we were in the middle of a calm field of tall prairie grass. This place was tranquil, like the night had been before the attack. I fell to my knees and layed across my father's chest. His shallow breathes caused small tears to prick my eyes. The Spirit of Fire had changed into a small orb of glowing white light hovering close to his master in worry.

"Hotaru." The softness of his voice forced me to swallow a sob in my throat. "Hotaru, my darling." I could not respond, my lips refused to move. Even if I had managed to utter the slightest noise I would have broken down in hysterics. "Are you alright?"

My hands quickly went to his open wound, trying to apply pressure. How could he ask me if I was all right when he was bleeding to death? My small hands became coated in the stick, crimson blood that flowed from his stomach.

He weakly lifted his arm and pet my long, auburn hair. "Everything it going to be fine, my sweet Hotaru." I could hardly stand his loving tone. He pulled me as best he could away from my futile attempts to stop the bleeding. He forced me on my back next to him. "Look Hotaru, the stars are so beautiful tonight." He held me close as he gazed up at the heavens.

I grasped him as tightly as my small body could. A shooting star shot across the sky, its beautiful, dusty tail fly after it, trying to catch up. "Quick Hotaru make a wish." Tears began to slip down my cheeks and I scooted closer to my father. "I bet I can guess what you wished for." He said in his usual teasing tone. A small sob escaped my throat. The Spirit of Fire moved closer illuminating our faces.

My father looked down at me with warm, sad eyes. "I'm sorry your wish cannot come true." I looked up at him, my eyes already turning red. "Don't worry though Hotaru, because I love you." I could feel his breathing become labored. "The Spirit of Fire will watch over you and protect you just like I have." He seemed so serene. His heartbeat was weakening and his breathe shallow. "Be brave Hotaru." And with his last breath he said. "Don't be sad Hotaru because I will not die in vain, I die for you."

His calm brown eyes faded and his body stiffened. I stayed there sobbing quietly while holding onto the clod shell that had once been my father. I lay there for hours refusing to believe it was true. But it was real, my father was gone and he died for me.

And that is how Asakura Hao died.


End file.
